


WHAT IF

by von_gikkingen



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen, Post-Battle of New York (Marvel), Sakaar (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-27 19:40:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20051461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/von_gikkingen/pseuds/von_gikkingen
Summary: Meanwhile in the branching reality where Loki grabbed the tesseract and ran for it...





	1. Chapter 1

** _SAKAAR, SEVERAL HOURS LATER… _ **

** **

“I’m sorry, you _what_?”

“Made a deal with Thanos,” he repeats impatiently, materializing a knife in his hand to remind me both that he can do that and that he’s not a huge fan of my interruptions. Especially when they came in form of questions he did _not_ feel like answering, apparently. “I was supposed to bring him an Infinity Stone. Didn’t go exactly according to plan.”

“Didn’t it? Because you _do _have an Infinity Stone. We all saw it,” I say, earning yet another look from the Asgardian. “What?”

“What’s your name?”

“Why, so you can put me down on your _troublemakers to be dealt with in due course_ list?” I say ignoring the way he casually throws the knife in the air and catches it again with the ease of someone handling their weapon of choice, all while not breaking eye contact.

“You know _my_ name,” he says after repeating the action a second time, “seems only fair.”

“I know your name because you clearly enjoy talking about yourself,” I smirk. Several of the people around me chuckle at the remark. Several more just look at me, their expressions turning semi-annoyed because they would. They know me well enough to know this is me just getting started. “But here's the thing, highness. _I _grew up on Sakaar which affected my capacity for just standing around talking. So can we please get the punchline? Because I have scavenging to get to.”

“What if I told you the punchline has to do with you – _all of you_ – leaving this horrible place. Going somewhere…”

“That isn’t just garbage?” utters the Krylorian man to my left wryly.

“Slavery too,” I join in. “Don’t forget that. Our biggest exports. Garbage and slavery.”

“And attitude…?” says Loki, eyebrow quirking upwards.

I just give him a tired smile – the kind that saves me the bother of having to say _fuck you, Odinson_.

“Is this where you promise us a better world if only we pledge you our undying fidelity…?” I wonder when he doesn’t say anything for a few long seconds, just stands there flipping his knife in a way that is really starting to get on my nerves.

“Yes,” he admits in the end. “Thanks to some poor decision making on my part I’m left with two options. Spending the rest of my life looking over my shoulder in fear of retribution from Thanos…”

“With an Asgardian lifespan,” I comment. “Yeah, that’s gonna be fun.”

“_Or_,” he aims a glare my way, “Making this right. If I get him the stone he sent me to get – and the one I... may have misplaced during the invasion...”

I no longer even bother pretending I’m not finding this funny. After all for an Asgardian prince to be in this much trouble – to be actually as much of a mess as the likes of us underneath all the bluster and attitude…? That's just objectively hilarious.

“How would that work…?” frowns one of my fellow scavengers, still not quite done processing all that information.

“He wants to try to invade the Earth again,” I say, rolling my eyes. “This is him recruiting an army. Because he thinks we’re _that_ stupid.”

We weren’t.

Some of us, though, were _that _desperate. And he already told them about this… Earth. A world where things actually grew and people weren’t being slowly poisoned with every breath. World where you didn’t have to worry about radiation and cannibals and a hundred other things that were both horrible and just another part of life around here. Just looking at the faces around me I knew – nothing I could say, however reasonable, was going to keep this from happening. He was going to get his army.

We _would_ fight for him. Because anyone promising us a chance to get the hell off Sakaar, however selfish his reasons for doing so might be, was still someone we would die for in a heartbeat.

“Just one question,” I say, interrupting yet again, after having spent minutes watching in wordless amazement – and horror – as he talked some of the toughest men and women I ever knew into a cause as unworthy as trying to save him from a titan related death.

“What is it?”

“Why do you think it’ll work? Your last invasion wasn’t exactly a roaring success.”

“I didn’t know what I’ll be up against. I do now. Besides – now I will be invading a world that haven’t even begun coping with their first contact with a hostile alien race. World whose people _really_ don’t expect me back, not this soon and not with this many people behind me.”

“Which is the best place to be if one wanted to stab you in the back,” I comment tonelessly. “_Great_. Now I talked myself into joining your little militia of garbage people.”

The Asgardian prince seems about to answer – then thinks better of it and just gives me a weak smile. One that seems to say he might just be willing to put up with my sarcastic comments, because they do have some entertainment value more often than not. _Amusing – for a savage_, he clearly decided. But since my opinion of him is something along the lines of _tolerable – for an Asgardian_ I decide to just leave it.

We’ll have time enough to revisit it. After we conquered the Earth…

…

“This place? Really? I kinda assumed the first thing you’ll do is make them build you a golden palace,” I comment as I walk out to join him on the landing platform as the sun sets over New York.

Just something over a week since I first met him, a tall dark stranger holding a glowing blue cube and looking like the definition of someone who just had the worst fucking day. And now he was the god emperor of a world that once saw him defeated. And about as unbearably smug over it as I expected him to be...

“General,” he says, turning to look at me, seeming genuinely pleased to see me.

“What did I say about calling me _that_? I’m not a military leader.”

“You did bring a world to its knees. What was that? Beginner’s luck?” he chuckles.

“Personally I’d be just fine if they stayed on their feet. You’re the one that insists they _kneel_,” I remind. “And there are so many inappropriate jokes I can make about that alone.”

“And let me just tell you how glad I am you’re managing to keep them to yourself.”

I just roll my eyes and say nothing for a while. Just stand there enjoying the sunset.

“I don’t need a golden palace,” he says and that’s that for us having a quiet moment it seems. “I prefer to keep this place. Such a monument to Stark’s ego. Removing his name from it is going to be extremely satisfying.”

“And, you know, _extremely_ petty,” I comment.

“I can afford to be petty. In fact I can afford to be anything I want.”

“Except late for your meeting with Thanos.”

“Right,” he says, the triumphant glow in his eyes immediately dying down. Then, almost as an afterthought, he says. “Is leaving you in charge while I’m gone the worst decision I’m ever going to make?”

“Only one way to find out, highness.”

“That sounded wrong..."

I give him a sideways look just to let him know that, yeah, I heard it as soon as I said it. “Majesty?” I suggest. “The God Emperor? The Supreme Leader?”

“Whatever the title you’ll just say it like _that_, won’t you? Like you can’t be bothered to hide how little respect you have for it.”

“Probably. But you _do _need a title. I can’t just call you _Loki_.”

“I can’t just call you anything,” he says before I manage to make a comment on how it’s weird when people in his position are on the first name basis with their minions.

I sigh. As much as I enjoy this game of constantly changing the subject whenever he brings up the fact that for someone who basically did all the work here and gave him the planet he was so intent on enslaving he really should know my name by now… “Mal,” I say, keeping my eyes on the now steadily darkening sky.

“Mal,” he repeats, nodding to himself. Clearly thinking I look like a Mal – never mind that I always sound like it’s short for _Malcontent_.

“You’re keeping a titan waiting,” I remind him.

“Right,” he says and reaches for the tesseract he always carries concealed somewhere on his person.

He opens a portal then, steps through it and leaves me officially in charge. Of a _planet_.

“Not a great plan,” I mutter under my breath before turning on the heel and heading back inside. Because there is only so long one can be standing around dramatically on the top of the Stark Tower and I just about reached my limit.

…

He looks like hell when he gets back. Still, the first thing he tells me is “We’re good. He’s pleased with how this turned out.”

“I would expect so, now that he’s the first being ever to wield two Infinity Stones. Never mind he’s the last person in this galaxy that should be trusted with even one,” I add, in a quieter tone. “He _is _mad in case you missed it.”

“I didn’t. Which is why I prefer to know where he is and what he’s up to.”

“Don’t act like this is a part of some plan. This is a corner you backed yourself into,” I say, getting up and walking over to the bar because it’s pretty clear he could use a drink.

“Maybe,” he admits. “You on the other hand _chose _to join me here.”

“Touché,” I say and carry the glass I just filled with Stark’s expensive whiskey over to him.

“None for you?”

“Alcohol isn't what I need when I'm trying to forget my troubles,” I say only. Then, on a whim more or less, I lean down to plant a kiss on his forehead. Not because I feel particularly affectionate but simply because it’s so clear he needs _something_ right now. Something to remind him he’s not alone, not completely. “Get some rest, Odinson,” I tell him as I turn to leave.

“Haven’t you heard?” he says, his laughter following me as I walk away. “There’s no rest for the wicked.”


	2. Chapter 2

“So… Even though we’re in charge now and they would basically need magic to get rid of us at this point we’re for some reason still worried about these five humans…?” I ask in a _just so I’m getting this right _tone. “Plus your brother,” I add since his annoyed expression tells me he’s about to.

“I just don’t like that we have no idea where they are,” he says vaguely.

“I don’t like the fact that one of them is enormous, green and just generally looks like he wouldn’t be out of place in Grandmaster’s arena and we still can’t locate him.”

“He’s not always green.”

I start laughing and keep at it for all of several seconds – up until I realize he’s dead serious. “He’s not always green…?” I repeat.

“Don’t you have full access to SHIELD databases,” he says, giving me a severely annoyed look that, yeah, I kinda deserve.

“True. I have the option to read those. But do I have the time to do it…?”

“Don’t you?” he frowns.

“I might at that. If I wasn’t busy familiarizing myself with terran popculture.”

“And that is a priority _how_?” he snaps and when I open my mouth to make some kind of obvious sarcastic remark, but he raises a hand to stop me before I can. “If I can survive weekly debriefings with a giant pink psychopath you can do this. This being _your job_.”

“_Fine_,” I reply, possibly a touch petulantly, turn on my heel and proceed to walk to my apartment where I then spend a better part of night learning all there is to know about the Avengers. And then I just keep reading because if the SHIELD files are anything to go by the people of this world might just be slightly more interesting than I gave them credit for.

“You look like hell,” comments Loki when I join him on the platform outside the penthouse to watch the sunrise.

“No kidding. I spent all night finding out that, holy shit Earth has a shady people problem. I’m talking full on villains. Have you heard about this _Hydra_ thing? How is no one shutting it down?”

“I think that might be _our_ job. Since we’re in charge now,” he comments giving me a sideways look. Before turning the sarcasm all the way up as he adds, “Are you sure you want to do that? It might cut into your free time. And you have all that popculture to catch up on.”

“I’ll just watch _Empire strikes back_ during the flight to Austria,” I shrug.

“You would really prioritize shutting down illegal labs to learning more about the force? Who are you and what did you do with the real Mal?” he replies, mock-horrified.

“Shut up, Odinson,” I say, elbowing him in the ribs. “Do I have your permission to go on killing spree through Nazi scientists or not?”

“Do you _need _my permission.”

"I do not."

…

I knew coming along for this assignment was a bad idea.

Because I knew men like Klaue. Men like him were all I once knew. They were the ones I let lead me away somewhere private and dark and quiet whenever I felt I haven’t made a terrible decision in a while. They were the ones that left me with bitemarks on my shoulders and crescent bruises where their nails dug into my hips. And it was always the same – quick and rough and ultimately satisfying. And I didn’t doubt for a moment he’d be exactly _that_. Just what I liked…

Which is what made it so unfortunate that the only reason I found myself in the same room was because Loki wanted him dead.

The various rebel cells springing up all over the place were something we really couldn’t do much about – these people just wouldn’t give up on their ideas about hope and freedom and blown up Death Stars. What we _could_ do was make sure that they couldn’t get their hands on anything they might do any real damage with. And so here we were, coming in guns blazing and asking pointed questions about his unfortunate decision to sell anything to anyone who could afford to pay…

“Let me stop you right there,” he says to the enormous Centaurian who so far did all the talking. “I’m not dealing with you.”

He surveys our group then, not seeming too distressed by just how alien most of us look. And the predatory smile that spreads across his face when his eyes stop on me says it all. I don’t know how but he just _knows. _Knows exactly who’s in charge here...

“What do you know – some of you _do_ almost pass for human,” he says as, ignoring the glaring Centaurian, he starts walking towards me.

And the way he runs his eyes over me makes all of my fellow Sakaarans hold their breath in anticipation of violence. Me, I just keep my face carefully impassive. Because I _know_ – he has more to say. If I let him he’s going to make this a whole lot worse for himself...

“Tell me,” he says, his dark eyes boring into mine, “working for Loki... how much time do you spend on your knees?”

There are audible intakes of breath.

I just stand there, taking my time with the answer. Taking my time to let the mischievous smile I feel tugging at the corners of my lips take over. “Nowhere near as much as I’d like” I say, my tone conversational as I lazily run my fingers over the brand on the side of his neck. “How about you?”

The silence that follows is deafening. Jaws drop. There is a metallic sound as one of Klaue’s henchmen drops his weapon for good measure.

Satisfying to say the least but I’m nowhere near done.

Savouring his _okay, did **not **expect that_ expression I lean closer. Much closer than I should. Close enough for our lips to almost touch…

But it never gets as far. I don’t let it. Instead I just stay that way for a long, unbearably tense second – before grinning an _on second thought maybe not _kind of grin and stepping out of his reach. And damn if the look on his face isn’t something to behold.

I allow myself a moment to enjoy it before getting things back on track. We were here on business, after all. “Remember the orders?” I say then, looking around at my people. “What are you waiting for then? Get them.”

What happens next is about as quick and one-sided as clashes between humans and Sakaarans usually are. These people don’t stand a chance against us. Even the most powerful among them have the disadvantage of not being from a world where even being given powers of some description only gives you the slightest competitive advantage. We were the people that spent most of their childhood being bombarded by every kind of exotic radiation there ever was and kept stumbling over magical objects that somehow found their way into the garbage piles of Sakaar. Even the legitimately superpowered inhabitants of this planet had trouble standing their ground against us – which was why the two Sokovians someone exposed to the mind stone before we confiscated it on day one of the invasion were currently enjoying Loki’s hospitality in a windowless room.

We make a quick work of incapacitating the humans because of course we do. There really only ever was one possible outcome to this. Same as there’s only one thing we can possibly talk about once we’re done. And right on cue… “So… Mal…?”

“All we ever do is pacify the locals. Excuse me for trying to make it fun for myself,” I say turning to the only Sakaaran in the vicinity brave enough to bring up the subject.

“_Fun_,” she repeats, clearly fighting very hard not to start grinning. “Boss, I thought things were gonna start spontaneously combusting.”

“Right? I mean of all people I didn’t expect to give us a bad name for sexually harassing the locals…” snickers the oversized Centaurian I let take the lead earlier.

“He asked a question. I answered it,” I roll my eyes.

Several of the people still around seem ready to let me know what it looked like from where they were standing. I glare them into keeping their observations to themselves and start in the direction of the nearest exit through which last few of the humans are being escorted.

I make it about halfway there when I hear it. The explosion…

…

“He had a _what_?”

“A concealed weapon inside his prosthetic arm. We need to look into his suppliers because that was a lot more advanced than their tech normally is...” I say. Just to be saying something. Just so I can lie to myself about having my priorities straight here...

“Mal,” says Loki, physically placing himself in my way to stop me pacing around the room. “This is _our planet_. He can’t hide forever.”

“No he fucking _can’t_. I’m gonna get him.”

He smiles and though normally I have a pretty high tolerance for this kind of thing right now I feel like wiping that smirk off his face by violent means. “There really is no accounting for taste,” he says, just to make it worse. Because of course he does. 

But then he catches something in my eyes that makes his expression change rather abruptly. Because something about the way I am right now, all pent up energy and vague anger, makes him realize that maybe this isn’t something we’ll just laugh off. That maybe this is going to become a real problem...

“What is going to happen the next time you see him?”

“I’m sorry, did I give you the impression I can see the future? You wanna know that go ask the witch we keep in the basement,” I add, waving my hands in parody of the motions I saw Wanda make.

“She can’t see the future.”

“Well, we should find someone who can. It would solve _so… many… problems_.”

“I don’t think that’s likely to happen. We might have to solve them ourselves.”

“You know…" I say, letting out a breath before making myself look at him. "I always hated having problems you can’t just stab.”

“Me too."


	3. Chapter 3

“Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t put you in a cell.”

“Yes you did,” says Pietro tonelessly.

“Well I wasn’t the first to do it.”

Normally I’d remind him who got him out of the lab Hydra kept him in but it was hopeless to expect him to appreciate the fact he was never going to see the outside of that place unless someone broke him out. Because after Loki took the mind stone back all Hydra had left of that cosmic power were their two successes. And no way they were losing the assets they had in them just because the Sokovians were technically entitled to some basic human rights.

No, I really didn’t feel like telling him all that. What would be the point?

“Why keep us here?” he says, sounding very much like someone who doesn’t know why he even bothered to ask. He doesn’t want the answer. He wants the doors unlocked – and he knows that’s the one thing he’s not getting.

“I’m keeping you from dying, genius. You wouldn’t be safe in the general population. Your species is really into witchhunts these days and they know that some of us look indistinguishable from humans and… Do I really have to explain the rest to you?”

“So this is for our own safety?” snorts Wanda, clearly not buying it.

“You don’t believe me why don’t you wave your hands weirdly and double check.”

She doesn’t respond right away. Just holds my eyes. Looking away first she utters something indistinct about everyone being afraid of something.

“What?”

“I said,” she repeats with just a touch of anger, “I don’t like looking in your head. All the things you know you don’t have to fear because they already happened and you survived them. And the one thing you should be afraid of,” she says, then only shakes her head. “You treat Thanos like something that has no effect on your life.”

“I’ll be dead long before he collects all the stones,” I shrug. And there’s no need to exposition her on what I mean by it because she of all people knows. What with the trips into my mind she’s taken before deciding the place is too creepy for her.

“He already has two,” she says in a very _how are you not getting how serious this is?_ tone.

“Look,” I sigh, “if you want to sit here afraid of titans be my guest. I have better things to do.”

“Like what?”

“Again,” I smirk, waving my hands at her, “welcome to check.”

Which is when she surprises me. Because for whatever reason she actually forgets how much she dislikes the place and _does_ take one more redundant trip into my subconscious. The world flashes red for a second, only a second, and…

“Wanda?” I say, trying not to grin and failing, big time. “Are you blushing?”

“_That_ hasn’t been there before,” she says, not meeting my eyes. Because yes, she _is_ blushing.

“No. Very recent development. What?” I say, seeing that there’s something she really doesn’t feel like saying out loud.

“It’s… intense. Not like that,” she adds quickly, catching my expression. “It’s right on the surface. It must be on your mind constantly.”

I just let out a tired breath. “Not telling me anything I don’t know, Maximoff.”

“Meanwhile I have no idea what either of you is talking about,” comes from the next cell.

I turn to him to answer only to hear Wanda say, “Relationship trouble,” nodding her head in my direction.

“_Relationship?_” I say, actually catching myself laughing. “Oh, sweetie... you have serious some gaps when it comes to this language. It was one conversation – followed by him blowing up a hole in our spaceship, killing a bunch of my people and escaping. So I don't know how you got _relationship_ out of that, but...”

“Well, I got _trouble _right, didn't I?” shrugs the young woman. And since that was pretty good as far as comebacks go I just laugh some more.

Pietro then switches to their native language, saying something my universal translator has trouble catching. I understand his sister’s answer just fine though. “The definition of someone you should _not_ take candy from,” she grins.

“Yeah, that’s kinda spot on,” I admit, startling them both because they keep forgetting that switching to another language doesn’t really keep me from understanding them. “Well, this has been delightful. Be seeing you, weirdos.”

“Or you could just stay away,” says Wanda hopefully.

I just give her a look that tells her all about the chances of that happening.

No, I’ll definitely find the time in my busy schedule to come check on them again soon. If for no other reason than to make sure the confinement isn’t getting to them.

But there _are_ other reasons of course. The main one being that this _isn’t_ their fault. Even with them volunteering for the experiments that made them the formidable forces they are today this was in no way something they deserved. Not this cage, not the one before that. And since I really couldn’t let them out what I was left with was… being here. Being in the same room, even if it was only for minutes at a time, just to let them know they were not alone.

“Hey, Mal,” Wanda says, catching me with my hand already on the control pad beside the door. “What do you think will happen the next time you see him?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that like I’m supposed to know the answer…?”

…

“See, I think they’re powerful enough to be just fine if we let them out.”

“You know you only want to let them out because they _will _go after Stark the first chance they get. With just possibly more success than we’ve been having,” I say casually, never looking up from the reports my people turned in after the last wave of raids on badly organized and ultimately ineffectual rebel cells.

“Or maybe I just don’t feel right about keeping them in a cage because I’d be in one right now if someone didn’t get a really badly timed heart attack,” he says. Then, catching the smile I’m not quick enough to suppress, he utters a tired “What?”

“To think the people of Earth call you a tyrant.”

“I _am _a tyrant,” he says matter of factly.

“Sure. Technically. But you only act the part, like… 12% of the time.”

“You’re the one who keeps going down there to check on them. Quite the big bad enforcer,” he shoots right back at me.

“I like them,” I shrug. “That being said they really can’t be trusted to make good decisions if we let them out. They _volunteered_ to let Hydra experiment on them, remember?”

“So they don’t have the greatest judgement,” he says and by the trickster’s smile he flashes me I already know the next thing he’ll say will make me want to grab the nearest heavy object and throw it at him. “You really are the last person who can call people out on it.”

“I’ll never hear the end of this, will I…?”

“I’ll never think of you as professional again, that much is certain,” he says and this time I do throw something at him.

It passes through him because what I’ve been talking to was an illusion. Because of course it was. “Just out of curiosity,” I say, trying to keep my expression neutral, “what would you do if someone asked you how much time you’re spending on your knees?”

He doesn't answer, not in so many words. He just materializes a knife in his hand...

“Wish I thought of that.”

“Not that playing along isn’t a great option,” he smirks.

“I don’t _have_ options. I’m on a world full of people that will never forget how alien I am even if they by some miracle got over the fact I’m doing admin for the guy who told them _you were made to be ruled _and then proceeded to do just that. Don’t,” I say, rising my hand to stop him from saying whatever he was about to say. “That just got too real and we both know what happens when things get too real.”

“You leave the room,” he says in a tone of someone who really doesn’t like this habit of mine. “Instead of staying put and talking about it. I am here for you, you know.”

“I know. And you shouldn’t be. You have a world to run,” I say, getting up.

“Where are you…?” he says, clearly unhappy.

“Where do I normally go when I haven’t felt like a pariah in a while?” I reply and head out of the room. And out of the building and...

And then, before I know it, I'm reaching the park. A place I know I’ll have all to myself within minutes because anyone who sees me will identify me for what I am by my clothes and the vertical lines drawn on my face and will immediately make themselves scarce. If they're smart.

And people of Earth were finally starting to get a little smarter about all this it seemed. They saw me approach and just... scattered. Some of them actually at a run, not even trying to seem casual in their retreat. And then I have the place - this amazingly, unspeakably green place - all to myself.

I’ll never get used to this, I know. This garden of a world, covered with growing things, _living_ things. I lay down in the grass and look up at the trees and just… exist. Just for a while. Before I make myself remember there’s a world that needs running, full of people who want my kind off their planet because they have no idea there are things far scarier than us out there and we're the ones keeping them at bay.

Just for a few moments I let myself not to worry about that. Because even I deserve a few moments. Even an alien villain like me deserves that much…


	4. Chapter 4

Considering how many people were curious enough about what will happen the next time I encounter Klaue to actually take their lives into their hands and ask me about it I really should have had some kind of game plan. I _didn’t_. Which was unfortunate…

“I’ll be the first person to admit I really don’t know you that well but... I didn’t think you would be mad enough to have me kidnapped,” I say as I take in my surroundings. Small, anonymous windowless room, single chair in the way of furnishings and I would appear to be handcuffed to it.

So far so basic.

I don’t even bother to wonder about the period of time between me dozing off in the park and coming to in this place. Not relevant. Not that I could focus on solving that mystery anyway, not when he’s looking at me like _that_...

“I didn’t have you kidnapped.”

“Could have fooled me,” I say, moving my hands to make the chains of my handcuffs rattle meaningfully.

“Someone else had that bright idea. I just made him think I could make you talk. Surprisingly easy to fool for someone who will not stop referring to himself as a genius,” he says, clearly amused at something I am simply too confused to follow.

And then the door opens and Tony Stark walks into the room and things make a lot more sense just like that.

“Well… this is gonna save me time,” I comment. “We’ve been looking all over the place for you, you know.”

“I know,” smiles the tech genius and for a moment he reaches the levels of smugness I normally only expect from Loki.

“And now I know how you managed,” I add, my eyes straying to Klaue. Because it’s pretty obvious now, what with their respective areas of expertise. While Stark knows all there is to know about being in the spotlight it’s the South African who has a long history of staying out of sight. That’s the part I can understand. _Why the fuck would he help_, however? I can’t imagine the answer to that one.

I take a breath, close my eyes and try to gather my thoughts. “So what happens now?”

“Now you tell me everything you know about Loki’s boss,” replies Stark.

“Because you could use some fresh nightmares?” I say, eyebrow quirking upwards. “How about I _don’t_ tell you about Thanos. We might be on the opposite sides but that doesn’t mean I hate you. I don’t think I hate anyone enough to do _that_.”

“I don’t think you unders…”

“Hey, what’s up with this teamup?” I say turning my attention to Klaue because it’s Stark who doesn’t understand if he thinks I’m going to play by the rules. Simply handcuffing me to a chair is not enough to make me act the part.

“It’s _not_ a teamup,” Klaue says, sounding a touch insulted by the very idea.

“Oh good. Because if that was the case nothing would ever make sense again,” I reply. Possibly a touch sarcastically but then I’m having that kind of a day. “So how come you’re here? Hard time reaching evil quotas this week so you thought you might as well make yourself accessory to a kidnapping?”

“Maybe I just wanted to see you again,” he says. And the words are spoken so casually I can almost believe that really is the truth. And the thought makes my heartbeat quicken even before he adds, “And let me just tell you, the fact all your clothes seem to be skin-tight bodysuits is already making up for having to deal with _that_,” he says with a gesture indicating Stark.

I just smile. Because he’s not going to get a raise out of me so easily. “Come here,” I say in a low voice, leaning forward.

And I know he will do just that. He won’t be able to resist. There is something between us and he’s as powerless against it as I am and it’s going to make him make a mistake in three… two…

He takes a step, then another, his eyes never leaving mine. I smile the kind of smile that’s all unspoken invitation and wait for him to come a little bit closer. Only then I yank my wrists upwards, a quick, effortless motion making the chains snap. And then I have him by the throat and I’m slamming him against the wall and…

And I feel something hard against my ribs and when I look down I’m not even surprised to see the same weapon that left a hole in the side of one of our spaceships is now way too close to my internal organs for comfort. “Did you think I forgot you’re not human?” he says and there’s something predatory in his eyes for just a moment.

I let my hands drop to my sides. Not surprised one bit that he does nothing of the kind.

“How did you…?” says Stark, blinking in surprise.

“I’m from Sakaar. We don’t need help becoming supersoldiers. The radiation and exotic toxic waste make them out of us whether we like it or not,” I say, my eyes never straying from the weapon still pressed against my ribcage.

And it would be so easy to lie to myself about fear being the reason my heart is beating this fast. But I’m not afraid. That’s not what makes me forget to breathe when he takes me by the chin and makes me look at him and… and does nothing else even though we’re so close, even though his lips are almost touching mine. _Almost_. And it takes all my self-control not to change that.

I can hear Stark clear his throat and I’m ready to proclaim him my favorite Avenger then and there. Because if he didn’t I would have done something really stupid in the next heartbeat.

“Why do you want to know about Thanos?” I ask, making myself look at him, making myself act like this is what matters. The question that seemed important enough for this hero to have me kidnapped.

“Loki is terrified of him.”

“How do you...?” is as far as I get before I feel my expression shifting into one of tired comprehension. "_Thor_,” I answer for him because what else the answer could be?

“But he wouldn’t tell him _why_,” says Stark and the unspoken _which is where you come in_ actually does manage to put a smile on my face. “You're the closest thing he has to a confidant.”

“That would explain why this is the first time I'm hearing about him being in touch with his brother even though it means feeding intel to his enemies,” I reply and it couldn’t have come out more sarcastically if I tried.

“You don't look surprised,” comments Klaue, casually brushing a stray lock of hair from my eyes when I turn to him. And I’d slap his hand away but that would be what he expects, what he’s trying to get me to do with this gesture that carries a familiarity impossible to credit, what with this being only our second meeting.

I let my eyes linger on his face, just for a moment, but… what he said does demand an answer and I refuse to get distracted.

“Surprised?” I repeat. “He has a history of making stupid fucking decisions and this one I saw coming a mile off. The whole being adopted thing might have caught him by surprise and he’ll need about a century’s worth of serious therapy to begin getting over being lied to his entire life, but... At the end of the day they're the only family he has. He loves them. He just hates that he does,” I say feeling tired. Tired of feeling sorry for Loki. Of being able to do whatever he asks of me – defeat armies, crush rebellions, stand my ground while being stared down by a titan – and still feeling like I’m failing.

Because I can’t _help him_. He helped me escape a world that would have killed me horribly before I was ready and I couldn’t repay him because making a deal with Thanos, making that one mistake, was still throwing a shadow over everything. And what I could do for him to help deal with the consequences just wasn’t enough.

But I could _not_ put the same burdens on these terrans that frankly had enough problems of their own. “Loki _is _scared,” I say, looking at Stark and wondering if he’ll know I’m being honest with him because for all of us being on the opposite sides I do have respect for him. He _is _someone who deserves my honesty, at least in this. “You don’t have to be. The thing he fears is never going to happen.”

I say it like I believe it because I do. Because I have to. Because the thought I keep returning to, the one that’s the only reason I can sleep at night is _he can't get all of them_. I know this. I owe my sanity to that one little fact. Thanos can't get his hands on the soul stone, not when no one knows where it is.

And if the titan ever proves me wrong…

I don’t wish for death, not when I come from a world that does everything it can to bring it to you as soon as it can – but thinking of Thanos actually wielding the kind of power he hungers for makes me understand why death sometimes must seem preferable.

A thought that must show in my eyes because something about Stark softens then. “If I told you we just want to help…”

“If you told me that I'd probably believe you,” I say, interrupting before he can get any further. “But that’s not the conversation we’re having. We’re having the one where I_ have to_ tell you all I know if I want to leave this room alive. And that changes things.”

He nods because how can he deny that? And then, just when I’m starting to wonder what exactly is the endgame here… “Time to go then,” he says. And he’s speaking more to Klaue than to me I know, because the words seem to carry an unspoken reminder that the canon attached to his arm is still pressed against the material of my suit.

“Really?” I frown, not buying it for one second. It’s too easy which is the one thing life never is. And even when I can no longer feel the metallic hardness against my ribs I have trouble buying it.

“Threats clearly won't work,” says Stark with a shrug, “and I _could_ try to bribe you since I'm pretty sure we've got something you want...”

I see Klaue's self-satisfied grin only in the corner of my eye but it's enough. I could hurt him for that. I could also tear his clothes off and... And, dammit, the Avenger is right. They _do_ have something I want.

“But things are complicated enough as is,” adds Stark meaningfully. “Just go.”

And so that’s what I do. I just go.

I just leave the windowless room in the abandoned building, make my way through the maze of it and get out onto the street. I go back to the skyscraper occupied by a small army of Sakaarans and one very stressed out frostgiant. The kind of world I can understand – as opposed to the one filled with the so confusing terrans and their attitudes about people who are by all accounts their enemies.

“Where have you been?” asks one of my lieutenants seeing me walk into the lobby.

“In the Twilight Zone I guess.”

He just smirks. "I understood that reference."

Because of course he did. Because that's what this place has been doing to us. Making us the kind of people who understood references and would fight to keep this wonderful garden of a world from losing half of all it had.

"What?"

"We really suck at being the evil aliens, don't we?" I tell him.

"You're just now noticing?"


	5. Chapter 5

“I guess we're not even bothering with pretence anymore,” I groan as I open the door to let myself into the penthouse suite and see him. “I'd ask how you got here but I'm pretty sure the answer is something along the lines of _held onto my magic flying hammer. _Loki's in India, looking into those weird temporal things that keep happening around Kamar Taj.”

“I know. I came to talk to you.”

“I’m not telling you about Thanos,” I say immediately. And then I make my way across the room and head for the platform just outside because I intend to drink my coffee watching the sky slowly pale over the New York skyline and it will take more than the god of thunder to stop me from doing just that.

“You don’t have to.”

I make a noncommittal kind of noise to let him know I’m not really listening. Then I just about choke on my next sip when I mentally replay what he just said.

“Who did he tell?” I say, annoyed and tired in advance as I turn to gage his expression. Which turns out to be all the answer I need. “Right, no, that makes sense. Of course your mother would get it out of him. She’s sly, that one.”

He stays silent for a second that feels too long, especially with his expression so unreadable – but in the end he decides he will not be taking offense. “She would take it as a compliment,” he says with a smile I would find disarming if only I didn’t have this unfortunate preference for psychopaths.

“She better – I meant it as one. So,” I sigh, “you know he’s working on getting a full set. Two down four to go.”

“How long have you known about this?” he says, surprising me. Because the way he says it makes me feel like he’s worried about me. Like he knows the knowledge of Thanos’s endgame for the horrible weight it is and hates the idea I had to bear it nearly as much as he hates that his brother did.

It’s everything someone I was only meeting for the first time shouldn’t be able to feel. Not for his estranged brother’s favorite henchperson. Yet for some reason it appears he genuinely is that… _nice_. That lovely a person. And I have to take a swallow of my coffee to remind myself that life is bitter.

“How do you bear it…?” he says, watching me.

“By reminding myself that it’s been eons since aether has been causing any commotion so locating it might be tricky and soul stone might as well be a fairytale for all anyone knows about where to look for it.”

“Does it help?”

“I’m still sane, aren’t I…? Rhetorical question. That has a very real answer you really don’t want me to get into,” I say, making a face.

“Tony did mention you have… issues,” he says diplomatically.

“Yeah. Tony got a front row seat to _that_. Which is entirely his own fault because why would he think putting me in the same room as someone who _will_ immediately forget that I’m not even the same species just because my environment suits are a little too form-fitting was a good idea. Wasn’t he supposed to be some kind of a genius? What?” I add in response to the smile spreading across his face.

“I just… understand why my brother likes you.”

“Because my flavour of messed up draws attention away from his flavour of messed up,” I say under my breath. “Now what it is you really want to talk about?”

“Contingency plans.”

“Right. Because we absolutely need that. Praying Thanos just dies of old age doesn’t work, trust me. I’ve tried. No success. That being said we can’t exactly take him on. His fleet is… titanic. Pun very much intended.”

The Asgardian just treats me to another smile. And dammit, I think it might be entirely possible that I like this one. _Not_ the way one should feel about their enemies.

But then the Avengers feel less and less like enemies with everything that’s been going on. So not the effect one of them kidnapping me should have had, but here we are.

“Well if we _were _to make a plan,” says Thor trying to sound casual which is how I know I better brace myself for some problematic request.

“And this is _we _as in all of us. You guys plus, you know, all of _us_. The people occupying your world. _The evil galactic empire _for all intents and purposes,” I say but sadly he doesn’t seem to get that reference.

“Isn’t the fight against Thanos fight of everyone who’s threatened by his mad vision of balance? We’re all in equal danger from him. He won’t spare his allies when it’s time to use the gauntlet. He won’t spare anyone. His mission is against all life.”

I just take a shaky breath because, yeah, he’s absolutely right about that. “So if we ever try to kill us a titan that’s how it’ll have to be done,” I say, nodding to myself. “_Together_. Yeah, that stands to reason. Because let’s face it, having Wanda on the team will do wonders for your chances of actually winning… Of course the stakes have to be _really_ high. I’m talking high enough to make her forget how she feels about Stark.”

The Asgardian frowns, letting me know he has no idea what I meant by that. And so I finish my coffee in one quick swallow and proceed to tell him. I know the story well. Pietro told me often enough, after all. About the picture he has in his head. Made me understand that even on this green, living world there are people whose childhoods left them with scars horrible enough to almost match those the likes of me bear.

“I did not know,” says Thor when I’m done.

“Well, now you do,” I shrug. “And I’m pretty sure they’ll still stand with someone they have every reason to despise. Thanos is the one enemy that must be defeated. They know that. Wanda will _not _shut up about it. Never should have let her into my head...”

He’s about to reply when it happens. When a portal opens, portal made of darkness tinted with the luminous blue of the space stone and a lone figure staggers out onto the platform. And she looks like someone pushed her through to get her to this side. Like they had to because she wouldn’t be able to move under her own power.

“Neb…” I say, trying to keep the horror out of my voice and failing. Because I’ve never seen her like this. The expression on her face…

“The soul stone,” she says when I hurry to her side. “He has it.”

“What…? But… I thought Gamora couldn’t find it.”

The way she flinches when I say her sister’s name makes me grow cold. It makes me feel like I’d hurt her less if I hit her.

“Nebula…” I say, my voice unsteady. “What happened?”

“Gamora lied. She wasn’t very good at it…” she says and her black eyes look so empty. “He said he had to make a deal. Soul for a soul. He came back with the stone. _Without her_,” she finishes in a broken whisper.

It breaks me that I can’t hug her but for our meetings always being brief I know her well enough to know how she’d feel about that. She would treat any intrusion into her personal space as an attack. She doesn’t know anything but violence, after all. No one ever offers her comfort. Except maybe Gamora…

I close my eyes to keep my tears from spilling because seeing her like this makes me overflow with emotions I didn’t even think I was capable of. But what would it make me if I didn’t feel myself breaking at the news that she lost the one thing she was allowed?

“He said it was better if I stayed on Earth. Better for him. He couldn’t bear to look at me. I just reminded him what he was left with was the lesser…”

“I’m sorry,” I say and despite her grief the way I say it startles her into looking at me. Really seeing me. The guilt in my voice making no sense to her. But I can’t explain, not right now, not when I’m already turning to Thor. “Go get your brother. Odds are we don’t really have a wizard problem and even if we do it can fucking wait. This _can’t_. Get him here.”

“Why?” whispers Nebula, clearly confused.

“Because he’s the most cunning person I ever met and that makes him exactly who you want when you’re making a plan. Not a contingency plan,” I say meaningfully, for the Asgardian’s benefit, “a _plan_.”

He doesn’t try to argue with me. I doubt he knows the whole story here, but Loki must have mentioned this living weapon of a girl at least in passing because he doesn’t argue with me. He doesn’t fly off either. Just says something under his breath and his eyes turn a warm amber shade and… I don’t catch much of what he’s saying. All I know is that in the next second, in a spectacular rainbow-colored lightshow, his brother appears beside him.

“Why so dramatic, Heimdall?” he says in a lightly amused tone. Then he takes in the scene in front of him and his smile flees and he pales and… and next thing I know I feel very proud of him. Because unlike me he doesn’t second guess it. He just hugs her. Even though a hug is not going to fix anything. Though the first thing she does is raise her hand to ward off what she assumes is an attack he doesn’t let that stop him. He puts his arms around her and stays that way for a long second, not saying anything, just holding her.

“What did he take from you this time?” he asks eventually, his voice very gentle.

“The only thing there was left to take.”

And her voice is hollow and I’m very glad I can’t really see her face right now. And I could kill Thanos with my bare hands right then…

I see it – the exact moment he understands what she just said. I see it in the way he glances at Thor. That he can’t imagine anything worse and his heart breaks for her and…

And suddenly I feel the need to make him cut it off. I need him to get angry. As furious as I am. Because that’s what we need to be feeling. That’s what will fuel us when the time to fight comes.

“_We did this_,” I tell him and when he meets my eyes I know he agrees with me. “We kept acting like we could afford to bide our time, like this wasn’t really happening, not yet, not when all he had were two of the stones. We _let him do this_.”

And now she suffers. The one person that already suffered unspeakably for years. We didn’t keep him from making her life worse and that means we failed. Even if we keep him from collecting all the stones, even if we kill him, we will always be the ones that failed her. And Gamora. We failed _her_ too. 

And it left me feeling so lost. Unable to imagine what we can possibly do.


	6. Chapter 6

“Whatever it takes.”

I say nothing. It’s okay for him to say it, to sound like he means it – to make the words sound like they’re something to put your faith in. It’s okay for a hero to be like that. I’m the person who led the alien army that took this world. It’s ridiculous for me to respond to those words. Which is why I hope I do a good enough job of not letting it show on my face. Now _that_ would be embarrassing…

“Would it be possible to destroy any of the stones? If he doesn’t have them all at least we’ll keep him from using the gauntlet to its full potential. At least he won’t be able to wipe out all those lives,” says Loki, not speaking to any one of us, his eyes full of calculation. Already working on the most cunning plan he ever devised – because that is what we will need and because that is what Thanos fucking deserves. And I realize, not for the first time, that this mess of daddy issues and supremely weird insecurities for someone who will not stop calling himself _a god_ is my favorite person in the whole galaxy. “What?” he says, catching my expression.

“Just… really thought I was going to have a normal day. Business as usual. I was literally just trying to make it through my first cup of coffee in peace,” I reply. And don’t bother to actually add _and now I’m in a room full of Earth’s mightiest heroes_ out loud since everyone can tell that would be the punchline here.

It’s kinda reassuring that pretty much all of them seem to be as uncomfortable about this as I am. This just… doesn’t feel like it should be happening.

“Boss, there’s a situation,” says a Krylorian girl that just burst into the room with a wide-eyed look of someone bringing the kind of news that _really _couldn’t wait.

“Of course there is. It’s one of _those_ days,” I say darkly. One of the days when the universe randomly decided to find out just how much I can take. “What is it?”

“Well…” she says, too startled by the sight of the Avengers gathered around, never mind the daughter of Thanos and the two Sokovians we had a rule about not letting out of their cages.

“The bad news you were about to give me,” I say sharply, forcing her to get to the point.

“Yes. Well. It’s… Klaue.”

“Of course it fucking is,” I groan looking heavenwards.

I only half listen as she sums up for me how did he end up in lockup in Russia after apparently going on a killing spree through a local anti-alien rebel cell. The kind of people he normally did business with quite happily – and if I had any energy to spare on wondering I’d be very interested to know why the fuck would he think that was anything but bad for business.

“Yeah, I get the idea. I also have bigger problems right now. Actually, no,” I say, narrowing my eyes at her, because on second thought this needs clearing up. “I have _actual_ problems. The kind it’s my job to fix. He’s _not_ one of them. You don’t come here giving me updates on what he’s up to as though I need to know. I _don’t_. He’s not relevant to…”

Which is far as I get before I have to turn my murderous glare from the Sakaaran girl to the most suicidal person in the room. The man whose name used to be on the side of this building. Who just fucking _chuckled_.

“Is there something you want to say? Choose wisely. Might be your last words.”

“Mal, come on,” says Loki and, no, I was wrong. Stark is only the second most suicidal person here. “It _is_ funny.”

“Fuck you, Odinson.”

“We both know I’m not who you want to… That was mature,” he says, rolling his eyes at me. Because he’s currently holding a knife. One he caught just in time to keep it from getting buried in his chest. Because that’s what I do when I _really _don’t want him to finish a sentence.

Not great as far as comebacks go, but hey, it did shut him up.

“Are you finished?” he says conversationally as I glare bloody murder at him.

“Are you bleeding? Then no, I’m not.”

“Are they always like this…?” I hear Romanoff ask the room at large.

“Yep,” replies the Krylorian who apparently genuinely expected me to just drop everything and go deal with the Klaue situation.

“Un_fucking_believable,” I say, though not before I turn to her with an expression that sends her out of the room nearly at a run.

And hopefully that’s the subject closed and we can get back to…

“Go.”

“What?” I say turning to Loki. Though of course it sounds more like _fucking **what** you crazy frostgiant?_

“That’s an order, Mal.”

“You do know I only follow your orders when I feel like indulging you, right?”

But the supreme ruler of Earth is having none of my attitude today. “You have one life, just the one and you’re going to live it. You’re not going to deny yourself anything you want because we don’t know how many of us will still be here when all of this is over. So you’re going to take a ship and…”

“And what? Just forget there’s a mad titan hellbent on murdering half the universe? Pretty sure that takes priority over everything.”

“And I’m pretty sure I gave you an order,” he replies, not missing a beat.

A hardness comes into his eyes. I was never scared of him and I’m not scared now – but I _am _certain that if I don’t leave this minute he’ll throw me over his shoulder and bodily carry me to the nearest ship. “Why are you doing this?” I say, realizing I’ve taken a step back under his stare.

“Because you’re my friend you stubborn idiot. And you need to get this out of your system. We have a titan to defeat. I need to know you’re not getting sidetracked.”

“I’m _not_.”

Which is when Wanda starts laughing at full volume. Looking for all the world like she can’t believe she held it together this long.

“Surrounded by fucking traitors,” I utter under my breath.

“Surrounded by people who care about you and know that you _really_ need to get laid,” replies one of my so-called friends who only dares to say something like that to my face because he knows that no matter what happens he _can_ outrun me. I show him my middle finger and proceed to storm out of the room.

Not without a parting shot, though…

“Don’t you fucking dare go killing titans before I get back.”

…

“I gotta say, your timing is just fucking perfect. If I didn’t know better I’d think you were sent from the future to make my life as difficult as it can possibly get.”

“Nice to see you too,” he says.

And the terrible thing is that I can tell he means it. That seeing me is good news to him and it has nothing to do with the fact anything would be improvement to the bare walls of his cell. Which is beyond infuriating. Because none of this would be happening if he wasn’t making it so clear he was interested. That it wasn’t just me…

“What went wrong today?” I ask, possibly a touch angrily.

“It was just a disagreement.”

“Right. Of course. That explains why they found you in a room full of dead people.”

“In case you didn’t notice that _is_ what I do.”

“No it’s fucking _not_,” I snap. “Because that would be bad for business. Suddenly having problem with the anti-alien sentiments the nutjobs you’re selling to are spewing is like the definition of…”

I cut off right there because what would be the point of talking about it? We both knew what landed him in the cell. Someone must have said something about the likes of me - something he’d have no trouble ignoring, possibly even agreeing with only a few short weeks ago. And now it was reason for him to open fire at paying customers...

“Why are you here?” he asks.

“I got an order,” I reply icily. Which is all I’m saying. He doesn’t get to know the details. He doesn’t get to be yet another person to tell me that, come on, it _is _funny.

Tired of this already, tired of everything and ready to get this over with I just open the door of the cell in a way that lets him know that this is when he gets out. “The Russians won’t like it,” he comments.

“They’re a terran government. We gave them plenty of time to get used to the fact that we get to just show up and do whatever we feel like doing. If they still have a problem with it that’s really on them.”

He smirks and as ever his amusement has just an edge of madness to it. And I hate how easy it is to forget everything when he’s like this.

But I do. I forget _everything_.

Next thing I know I’m slamming him against the wall and for the first time in a long while feeling the weight I felt since the day I left Sakaar lessen. Because how can Thanos possibly matter in a moment like this? There is no big bad universe out there, not when I finally know what it’s like to have his lips pressed against mine, not when the sensation of his hand running through my hair makes my breath catch, when I _know_ what I only suspected before. That his hunger matches mine. That he’s being fighting the same futile battle I was and he’s just as glad he lost…

“How bad is it?” he says in a hoarse voice when we finally manage to let go of one another. “Because I’m thinking pretty bad. _The end is nigh _kind of bad.”

“How do you know…?” I say, taken aback. Because I didn’t think I said or did anything to tip him off. And yet…

“Your self-control is better than this,” he says and the smile he gives me then is somehow so ordinary, so… human. “Doesn’t matter how much you want it, you wouldn’t give yourself the permission unless…”

“The world isn’t ending,” I interrupt before he can finish that sentence. Making him laugh. Making him look at me with a mix of delight and amusement so disarming…

“All that time spent with Loki,” he says, shaking his head. “I really thought you’d be a better liar.” 


	7. Chapter 7

“It made the news, of course this was gonna happen. First time in years they know exactly where I am…”

I turn to him to ask what the hell is he talking about. And as I follow his line of sight I catch a glimpse of something… Something black and fast and predatory moving in the shadows underneath the spaceships.

“What is that?” I ask with forced calm.

“_That_ is a grown man dressed up as a jungle cat. _New suit_…?” he adds in a louder voice, clearly talking to the quickly approaching figure in black.

“Did you just _bait him_?”

“It’s kinda how this works,” he shrugs, unapologetic.

I’d reply but I see the dark shape again. And the suit might be covering his face but I can tell just by the way he moves – this one came for a fight. “That one,” I say pointing out my ship to Klaue. “Get on it. I’ll deal with this.”

And deal with it I try.

I do an adequate job of it if I say so myself. But that doesn’t mean I’m victorious. I do manage to run up the ramp and close it behind me before the mystery guy can board which is about the best I can hope for because whoever this is he doesn’t seem to be entirely human. He’s too fast, too agile. He actually holds his own against me – and I had to fight against things people on this planet don’t have the imagination for.

“What,” I say, still catching my breath as I walk to the front of the ship to take my place in the pilot seat, “_the actual fuck…_ was that?” I finish collapsing into it.

“An old friend. Actually, more likely his son by now.”

“You think you’re explaining this to me. You are _not_,” I say but then I get distracted by the sounds coming from the outside. “Oh you did _not_ just try to scratch your way into _a spaceship_, Catman.”

“We need to get this thing into the air,” says Klaue in a tone nowhere near as amused as mine. Which would mean this isn’t actually funny – for some reason I’m totally missing.

“Yeah, I’m gonna. Just give me a sec…”

“No, _now_. Those claws are made of vibranium. He might actually have a real shot at…”

I don’t need to hear the rest of that, I’m already working on getting this thing high enough into the air for the maniac in a vibranium suit to think twice about hanging on.

“How the fuck did you make enemies like _that_?” I say, turning to him with a glare that really has more curiosity than anger to it.

“It’s a long story. And you didn’t bring me here to talk, did you…?”

“No.”

No, I didn’t.

…

He was everything the men I knew back on Sakaar were. He was._ And yet... _

He was helping me out of my clothes, not half tearing them off in his hurry. There was no impatience in him. He was taking his time. Like I was something to be savored. And when the first scar came into view... No, he wasn’t surprised. He didn't expect perfection of smooth skin. He assumed this was what he was going to find and he was going to take me, scars and all, I knew that even before he ran his tongue over the old laser burn across my collar bone. And I could breathe again now that I knew that there was nothing underneath my suit that he didn't want.

The roughness still came. Passion with edge of violence to it. He did things with single-minded focus on his own pleasure, just as I knew he would. But that was later. After he was done tracing my scars. Reading them like a map. Claiming them as his territory with every touch.

He was like all the men I knew but just then, just for a moment, I could believe he was the one I was looking for all along, settling for lesser ones along the way to chase away loneliness. And I would rather take my chances against the Hulk than ever admit it out loud. But that _is_ what I felt. And dammit if the timing wasn’t just the worst…

Afterwards there is silence, at first kept at bay by the sound of our heavy breathing and then by nothing at all. But that _is _what I expected. What words could possibly fit in the space between us? We said all we had to say to each other without uttering a word. But that can’t last, I know. One of us will speak, sooner or later. And as I trace the dark lines of the tattoo on this forearm I suddenly _know _– it’ll be me.

It’ll be me asking him where am I supposed to drop him off because the sad truth was that we can’t stay here in the Middle of nowhere, Siberia forever.

We have lives to get back to. Assorted villainous things to be getting along with.

But… Well, I did get an order, didn’t I? I probably should double check that I did, in fact, get this out of my system…

…

“What did I miss?”

“King T’Chaka just made a public announcement in which he just stopped short of openly calling me the fucking worst...” replies Loki cheerfully.

I blink a few times as I try to deal with just how much his tone did _not_ match the words he was saying.

“Okay… _why_ do you sound so pleased about it...?”

“Because it's the kind of PR I need right now. I’ve been really sucking at acting like the evil alien who enslaved the human race, especially since all my henchmen collectively decided to get into altruism in a big way. Your take on it is definitely on the violent side but still... We’re winning good guy points, especially since we hunted down what was left of Hydra. Which is the kind of thing the evil aliens _shouldn’t be_ doing,” he says meaningfully. And, yeah, he absolutely has a point. I don’t even try to argue it. “It makes people worried. They’re happier when I’m being gratuitously evil. That’s when they know where they are with me. And me sanctioning getting your boyfriend out of prison hours after he killed a dozen people just because you’re my favourite and I support you in everything, including your questionable taste in men... It looks _bad_.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” I say, matching his smirk with my own. “Not as bad as your word choice, though,” I can’t help adding.

“Yeah, well, let me know when you settle on a label.”

“What? No. _No_,” I repeat, seeing the way he lifts his eyebrows. “You told me to get it out of my system. _I did_. That’s the end of it.”

“That’s adorable. And you know what? I’m not even going to say it. You get to keep your self-denial today,” he decides. “Since you made the public opinion turn decidedly anti-frostgiant with a single action…”

“Have they gone all frosty on you…?”

“Mal…?” he says, stretching the syllable. He sounds more amused than annoyed, though, which kinda ruins the effect he was going for. “Was that _a pun_?”

“Sorry,” I say, raising my hands in admission of guilt. “Couldn’t help it.”

“Because you’re in a good mood. Because… of reasons,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. I just make a face, deciding that he gets a pass too. And anyway, I’m not sure I have any more knives on me… “And let me just remind you,” he says, almost as an afterthought, “your plan was to_ not_ do that.”

“Why did you say it like that?”

“Like what?” he asks, all innocence.

“_Remember that favour I did you, Mal_...” I answer, giving him a look. He sighs and drops the pretence.

“I’m about to have an awkward conversation and I _really _need you there.”

“To do damage control?” I guess. “Sure. Who do I need to keep you from stabbing?”

“My father.”

I spent about five second processing _that_. There’s a lot there, after all.

“So this is it, then? It’s official. We’re…”

“We’re going to war,” he says, uncharacteristically solemn. Then he seems to hesitate. Just for a moment, though. “You think you have a reason to want to _survive it_, not just win it?” he asks me.

“I had that since the day I met _you_, Odinson. The only thing I have now that I didn’t before is something I could survive without just fine,” I say. And I love that he doesn’t call me a liar. That he lets me believe it. “And as I said – all out of my system now.”

If these are the problems we have, these are the evil plans we have to try to prevent from coming to fruition _whatever it takes _then, yes, I have to believe this was all I needed. Because I can’t afford to make a mistake, not right now. And to seek out that untrustworthy mess of violent appetites that is the last terran I ever should have gotten involved with, what with him being about the closest thing to _the actual worst _this species can produce… yeah, that would be a mistake. That would be _the _mistake.

And so I was not making it. Not again. Even if he didn’t care about the battlefield that was my skin and the way he said my name when it was just the two of us made me lose all control and…

But this is no time to think about any of those things. This is the time to find out just how far we can go with this _Whatever it takes _nonsense.

Because dealing with Odin? That’ll take _everything._


	8. Chapter 8

I start laughing and I simply can’t stop. “Oh my god…” I manage to get out after nearly a minute. “Oh, come on, it _is_ funny…”

“I hate you,” says Loki, trying to stare me down into behaving myself and just… failing miserably. “And I hate that you made sure I’m going to have to get involved in this.”

“How come?” I say, momentarily startled enough for my expression to return to normal.

“Because you’re the reason I actually have some experience with what it’s like to have a sister. That conquers worlds like it’s no big deal,” he says, setting me off again just as I thought I managed to calm down.

And I must be making a terrible first impression on the Allfather but frankly he’s not impressing me either.

“What was she the goddess of?” I ask eventually, turning to the old man.

He just stares at me and for a moment I suspect he’ll inform me I should not be a part of this conversation. He seems the type. But after a long second of sizing me up he just tells me. And his voice sounds tired beyond belief.

“Death,” I hear Thor repeat sounding like he might be the one we’ll have to keep from stabbing someone. And isn’t that a plot twist...

“Hey,” I say, getting up and coming to stand in front of him. “I know. It’s bad. But you really need to think about what kind of bad is it, okay?” I put a hand on his shoulder and smile up at him. “Does _the goddess of death _sound like someone who can take on our biggest problem? Because to me she does. And that’s all that matters. The universe is more important than your family drama. Now I know to you guys that’s pretty hard to believe…”

“_Mal,_” I hear Loki utter somewhere behind my back and the annoyance I hear in his voice is pretty much off the charts.

“Oh, whatever. Your initial invasion failed because your entire plan came down to _whatever would say **fuck you dad** the loudest_,” I say over my shoulder. “Now will you shut up and let me do my job?”

“Oh? Is talking people out of doing stupid things in your job description now? The irony…”

“The fact that you’re just now noticing even though I had to keep you from making stupid decisions on daily basis before we even left Sakaar…” I start, cutting him off before he makes some kind of, possibly quite appropriate, reference to my track record when it came to stupid decisions just lately. We were simply not having that conversation in front of the King of Asgard. Bad enough we managed to have it in front of the poor Steve Rogers. Whose expression was priceless and whose opinion of me could never be salvaged.

“Will you two stop that?” interjects Odin.

“Oh, shut up, you’re not my real dad,” I say. Then, realizing what I just said, out loud, in front of people I just… burst out laughing for the second time since this meeting started. “And for the record – my dad is _so much worse_…”

“Not that it’s a competition, but, no. No, he’s not,” comments Loki.

Not that it was a competition, but, yeah, yeah he definitely was. But I don’t go there because we don’t have time for such tangents. That’s not the kind of conversation this is. This is the one about how the hell do we convince the formidable Asgardian that has spent centuries in solitary confinement to help us save the universe. One of _us_ being the person that had her imprisoned in the first place was going to make that challenging.

“You really will have to get involved, won’t you?” I realize, talking to Loki. “I don’t know anyone else who can talk people into doing something they really have no good reason to…”

“Aw,” he says, grinning at me. “Was that a compliment?”

“It wasn’t an insult,” is all I’m willing to admit.

“If only I knew how much nicer a person you are when you…”

“And that’s me out of this conversation,” I say, realizing what he’s about to say. “Before _I _end up stabbing someone.”

“That’s fine. I think we’ve got it from here,” he says, looking to his brother for confirmation. Then he falls in step with me and walks me to the door.

“Thank you,” he tells me, kissing me on the forehead briefly as I stand there, a little hesitant to leave the room all of a sudden. “For being here.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” I smirk. “Hey, is it weird that I kinda like your dad…? I mean don’t get me wrong. When he makes bad decisions he really goes all out…”

“No, you liking people who do that is not weird _at all_,” he tells me.

I punch him on the shoulder before heading out of the room. Leaving them to it. Because there is a limit to how much family drama I can take and I think I just reached it…

…

“Tea?”

“Sure. I just need you to take a sip first so I know you didn’t put anything in it,” I tell her.

She smiles at me and there’s something so androgynously beautiful about her when she does that. It’s how her eyes light up with genuine amusement, I decide.

We live in some seriously dark times. That really must be it – the way I’m drawn to people who still can laugh. The way I just decided that these two idiots, they’re _my _idiots, I’m keeping them when it came to the Maximoffs. Never mind how fast Stark was growing on me because some of his comments actually were as funny as he thought they were, even if they seemed to exasperate everyone around him.

And now here was this Sorcerer Supreme – which I had no frame of reference for, what with Sakaar suffering from severe lack of magic practitioners, but it still sounded like a pretty important, serious job to me. And she seemed so… relaxed. Which was putting me at my ease, big time.

It was definitely going a lot better than my last kidnapping…

“So… Magic,” I say, holding her eyes. “That’s totally a thing, isn’t it? I was so sure he was just being paranoid.”

“I’m afraid your master is merely extremely observant,” replies the woman.

“He’s not my master. I wish. That would be such a clearly defined power balance. I think… he might be my _friend_,” I say, making a face. “And if you ever tell him I said that I’ll probably stab you. Fair warning.”

She doesn’t seem like the open threat upset her too much. In fact she just smiles again. Such a strange woman…

But before I manage to tell her as much – possibly phrasing it a little less delicately than that, just to see how she’ll deal with my attitude – she’s taking charge of the conversation. Which is kind of a relief, really, because unless she does I really would have no idea where to take this one. I’m kinda making this up as I go along…

“You and your allies are getting ready for war. I believe I have information that will help you gain a competitive advantage against your enemy,” she says, her eyes darkening just a little.

“You know some kind of a secret weapon against Thanos?” I say, realizing that I’m leaning forward in my chair, hanging on her every word.

“Better. I know what the endgame is.”

“O… kay…” I say, stretching the syllables realizing that she really is just gonna leave it there. “Mind giving me some spoilers?” I say in a wondering tone. Because how sure am I I’m dealing with the real thing? She might have magic powers of some description, I’m willing to give her that much, what with how easily she managed to open a portal and just snatch me off the street. Still – it might be possible that I’m not dealing with someone entirely sane here.

And then she makes my suspicions grow as she hands me a piece of paper. A list, I realize at a glance. Names.

“These are the people you need to get.”

“Because…?”

“We’ll need all of them on Titan,” she explains. And, okay, I’m really lost now. Even though taking the fight to him, to a place that clearly still has a meaning to him…? Yeah, that doesn’t sound like a bad plan…

“We’re going to Titan?” I say, lifting an eyebrow.

“We are,” she confirms.

“Are we going to win there?”

“We _are_.”

I laugh softly. Can’t help myself. She speaks as though it can’t possibly go any other way. Which means she’s either mad or precognizant and god, I hope it’s the latter. “How are you so certain about this?” I ask.

“Because we won't have to get it right the first time.”

She makes a vague hand gesture and something happens to the large, golden amulet hanging from her neck. It unfurls and as I see the flash of green at its center I find I lost the ability to make a smartass remark. Though I _might _scream.

A good, long, cathartic squeal of pure joy. Because _we’re gonna **win**_… 


	9. Chapter 9

“Oh, _finally_,” I say as Loki arrives in the by now familiar flash of multicolored light. “Took you forever. I’ve got some big ass news. You were _right_ about the wizards. Hi,” I say then to the other person that just arrived by the way of the Bifrost. Adding, before I can quite think better of it, “You’re... Tall.”

“And you are?” says the woman in a dark, form-fitting suit and sporting a – surprise, surprise – horned helmet.

“My other sister,” explains Loki.

And I would love to get into that, love to make a comment about them kinda rocking a very similar color scheme, but… No, all of that can wait. My news _can’t_.

“What he said,” I say only to the goddess of death before proceeding to ignore her. “But seriously, I need to tell you all about this wizard... lady... Witch?”

“Why did you ask me like I’d know?” says Wanda, catching the way my eyes strayed to her just then.

“Oh, I don’t know,” I reply sarcastically. “What about your powers could have possibly made me think _magic…_?” I add with a pretty good impression of her usual weird hand motions if I say so myself.

“Yes,” I hear Loki say to his sister, clearly answering to her doubtful expression. “These are the people we can’t hope to defeat Thanos without.”

“And doesn't the galaxy feel safer already...?” I smirk.

The Asgardian woman just looks at me for a long, tense second. Then, just when I think this will be ending in violence, she says the last thing I expected her to say.

“_I like this one_.”

“Rather partial to her myself,” comments Loki. “Now tell me – what was it about…”

“_The time stone_,” I interrupt and it’s possible that I might be sounding a touch… excitable. But there really is no other way to give him these news. “I know where it is and I know someone who can use it and… We’re going to _Titan_.”

…

“So I don’t know who this Mar… Vel is but she is underlined so I’m guessing a pretty big deal,” I continue, working my way down the list.

“Oh, she _is_,” says Nick Fury. And I’m kinda relieved to see I’m not the only one who didn’t see _that_ coming.

“That’s a Kree name,” says one of my lieutenants, a Kree himself. “How do _you_ know someone like that?”

“Long story,” says the terran only before waving a small device of some description in our general direction. “Already let her know we’ll be needing her. Who else is on the list…?”

Forcing myself to close my mouth I glance down at the piece of paper in my hands. “Well, there is this _Strange _guy. She said she’ll take care of it. Speed his way through training. I didn’t ask. Magic, you know? I don’t have the expertise and she does so we’re probably better off leaving it to her.”

It goes that way for a while. Until we get to one of the problematic parts. _More _problematic parts that is, because we already spent fifteen minutes on Steve having a freakout when he found out someone he assumed died decades ago was supposed to be along for the ride when we took on Thanos.

“Okay, so… no way we’re getting T’Challa on the same team as me. Last time I met him there might have been… an attempted mauling,” I say, careful not to meet anyone’s eyes.

“You did _what_…?” says Rogers. But for once I’m ready for his righteous bullshit.

“Okay, so _he_ tried to claw my face off. Unprovoked. But I love how you assumed I started it,” I say, giving him a look.

“Was _that _a pun?” asks Loki.

“How would that be a pun?” I narrow my eyes at him as I mentally replay what I just said. “It _wasn’t_. He literally has vibranium claws on his suit. And knows how to use them. Never mind that he fucking hates me. Will you stop that?” I snap at Pietro who’s been laughing for a while now. And refused to quit it no matter how murderous the glares I sent his way.

“Look, can you get on this?” I say, turning to Loki. “You _ordered me_ to go to Russia, so… kinda your fault. And don’t even pretend you wouldn’t be able to make them see the bigger picture. We all know what your area of expertise is.”

“I can _try_,” replies Loki, resigned, because he really can’t argue with me on this. Not with all the preliminaries we have to go through and that is before figuring out what we’re going to do transportation-wise because since he handed the space stone over to Thanos we have to do things the hard way instead of just showing up wherever we’re least expected. And so we’ll need a space ship, maybe several and…

And the list goes on.

And so it takes another two hours before we’re all sorted and we can finally go our separate ways to get on with our respective missions. Which is great since I can’t be the only one that feels like this particular lineup is just… weird. Because this might be a thing now but us cooperating with the people whose planet we overrun and proceeded to enslave just feels… _wrong_. It really stretches the suspension of disbelief. And _yet… _

“We _will _win,” says Loki then, just as I’m about to let him know that if no one needs me I have a talking tree to kidnap. “Apparently that’s written in stone. The only way this story can go. It still leaves us with the choice of _how _we win. And I think we all know how that has to happen.”

“We do,” replies Rogers and for a moment I think he actually forgot how much he disapproves of me and my life choices, seeing that I’m the first one to turn to her.

“Why is everyone looking at me...?” says Nebula. And she genuinely has no idea and that breaks my heart all over again.

“Because we can’t give you your sister back,” Loki tells her. “But we can give you this.”

“A chance to avenge her,” I continue, seeing he’s not sure he knows the right words for this situation. And I feel like I do. And so I just say them. “At least you’ll spend the rest of your life knowing that when it mattered you were the one who won _and he was the one who lost._”

She understands then. Understands what we’re saying. And though I said the words this is a sentiment all of us share. Every person that knows the first thing about this artificial girl is thinking the same thing. _Only she gets to kill him_. And if nothing else, _that_ unites us as a team. Because this is one act of vengeance we can all get behind…

“Well… have fun in Wakanda,” I tell Loki as I feel the moment of silence stretch too long and _way _too intense for my taste. “Come on, kids. We’re going on a roadtrip. _In space_.”

“So when you said _Rocket Racoon_,” says Pietro, being the first one to catch up with me, for obvious reasons, “does that mean we’re supposed to expect an actual raccoon…?”

“I… don’t know what that is,” I admit.

“You don’t know what a raccoon is?” grins Wanda. “How long have you lived on this planet…?”

“A few months.”

“Oh yeah,” she realizes, her eyes growing wide. “This stuff is happening _fast_.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” I tell her. “The sooner we get Thanos off our collective to do list the sooner we can get back to our lives. And I don’t know about you guys but I definitely have things to be getting back to.”

“I _know_,” says Wanda, shutting her eyes closed as her expression grows… just priceless, really. “And I’m never getting that mental image out of my mind, thank you very much.”

“No one told you to look,” I remind her.

“You could have warned me,” she replies, unappeased.

“Well, in her defense,” starts Pietro, “what did you _think_ she was thinking about…?”

“Exactly,” I smirk. We walk on in silence without any further references to my sex life all the way to the frankly insufficient spaceport beside the Stark Tower – which must be a new record. “Seriously, though,” I say, turning to them then, “What is _a raccoon_…?”

“It’s… like a fox. Just cuter.”

“O… kay…” I say. Then wait a beat before adding, “What’s _a fox_? Quit the cackling, Maximoff,” I tell him, punching him in the shoulder when he, not unexpectedly, starts laughing.

“Sorry. You probably know like… three animals, don’t you?”

“_Hey_. At least four,” I comment as I start to lead a way to my ship. “I learned about this… cuttle… thingy the other day.”

“Cuttlefish?” frowns Wanda.

“Yeah, I think that was it.”

“You know what…? I don’t even want to know what that’s about. Let’s just… go find this raccoon. _In space_,” she says, clearly just to hear how it sounds spoken out loud so she can fully appreciate how bizarre the situation is.

“And then kill a titan,” I add for good measure.

“You know – he probably doesn’t even know who any of us are,” points out Pietro. His sister just smiles and damn, that is one dangerous smile.

“He will,” she says as her eyes flash red.


	10. Chapter 10

“Did he forget he doesn't live here anymore?” I ask, though I’m nowhere near as loud or as sarcastic about it as I should be. Mostly because I really don’t want to disrupt whatever it is that’s happening. Because I’ve never seen Nebula this close to relaxed. And there is just something about the sight, about the way Stark patiently explains to her, yet again, that she really just has to keep her hands in position in front of her…

“I think he just needs to be around her,” I hear Loki say. Not looking at me because how could he be? No, he’s as fascinated by the sight as I am, I can tell. “This is good for him.”

“Is it?”

“I think it might be helping him gain some perspective. To remember that at least he got to have a mother even if she was taken from him too soon. That some never had anywhere near as much...” he says, his voice distantly sad as it so often is when he speaks of Nebula. “How did your thing go?” he asks, almost as an afterthought.

“Got the tree and the raccoon. Also a whole lot of intel on the Infinity Stones... Stopped by my uncle’s place on the way back. Long story,” I say only when he turns to me, blinking back his surprise at what I just said. “He was always a little obsessed with the things... I just... I wanted to double check if there really is nothing we can do about Gamora...” I explain.

And don’t have to say the rest. He can read it in my face clearly enough. There is no reclaiming a soul that was traded away on Vormir and that’s horrible and heartbreaking and it’ll forever be our greatest failure. And so now all we _can_ do is make Thanos pay.

“So what’s up with him?” I say, nodding at Stark just to change the subject.

“Remember how Steve freaked out about this… Barnes?”

“He didn't die, did he...?” I say, exhaling tiredly. Not exactly what I’d call plot twist, not anymore. Not now that we knew just how good the intel the Ancient One was giving us really was.

“He’s in the basement. We’re trying to undo what Hydra did to him. They’ve trained him as an assassin and completely wrecked his mind in the process and... _Long story_,” he smiles when I glance at him. “Some of the people he was sent to kill... They are suddenly making it complicated to keep the team together.”

“Maybe you should have T’Challa talk to him,” I suggest. “If he can get over the fact he hates my guts he probably has some trick for dealing with this kind of thing...”

“I think he just really doesn’t want half the universe to die. Neither does Tony. He’ll get over himself. I really think this is helping.”

“It’s helping me, anyway,” I tell him just as Nebula, in a somewhat hesitant tone, admits that she did have fun. And she uses the word as though it’s foreign to her. She still means it, though, and that makes everything better.

Not just for me, either. Because when Stark gets up and comes to us he seems… better. There is less darkness in his eyes. “Tell me,” he says only.

“I can only tell you what Wanda told you already. He had no control at all. Their conditioning really was unbreakable,” replies Loki seriously and I know he’s telling nothing but the truth for once.

Still I hold my breath as I wait for the answer.

And then he just smiles and he almost means it. He _wants to_ mean it and that’s perhaps better. “Whatever it takes, right?” he utters under his breath as he walks by us. Headed for the basement. Where we keep the man who killed his parents.

Somehow, though, I feel no apprehension about what might happen next. “Whatever it takes,” I say myself and start to follow.

…

“We have our sorcerers and a whole bunch of Kroll which, I don’t even wanna know…” I say since that still feels a little too good to be true. But then so does Carol and I couldn’t be happier about the fact she joined our cause the second she hears what it we fight against. “And a whole fleet of Ravagers and Asgardians and Sakaaran savages of course,” I say. “And _why_ is everyone so weird about that word on this planet?” I add because I can’t stop myself. Because T’Challa started glaring at me as soon as it was out of my mouth.

“Perhaps I’ll have time to explain it to you,” he says coldly.

“Haven’t you heard, highness?” I say, quirking an eyebrow at him. “We’ll have all the time in the world.”

He just looks at me for a long, tense moment and I’m pretty sure a lot of the people in the room wish they didn’t have to be here for this. Because _this_ is the kind of thing that reminds us that Thanos, the horrible threat he represents, is the only thing that could ever get us to work together as a team.

“Does he call _you_ a savage?” asks the Wakandan.

“He does,” I say only. And it’s the utterly casual way I answer that obviously inappropriate question that makes him drop some of the attitude.

“You don’t mind,” he realizes, taken aback.

“Why would I mind?” I frown. “That _is _what I am.”

“I think on this planet it’s definitely more of an insult,” comments Loki, even though there is no real tension to diffuse. “We talked about that.”

“You talked. I wasn’t listening. Busy doing _all _of the admin. But now we definitely have everyone we need so can we please get this underway. This… truce,” I say, glancing at T’Challa, “can only last so long.”

“And my father has to die,” says Nebula.

And that’s it. That single factual statement is what gets us to stop stalling and let’s just go do this already.

“What?” I say, catching the look on Hela’s face as she falls in step beside me.

“I’ve missed this,” she says only. As if the bloodthirsty smile on her face didn’t tell me as much.

“I didn’t,” I realize. “I think this place has made me soft.”

“Please,” she smirks. “You’re still a savage.”

“I am where it counts.”

“_Too… much… information…_” I hear come from somewhere around the level of my knees.

“I am Groot.”

“And I am not apologizing for being exactly what I am,” I say, turning to the strange plant creature. “If you mind so much put some headphones in. Otherwise you have a _long_ ride to Titan ahead of you.”

** _TITAN, SEVERAL WEEKS LATER _ **

“What now?”

“_Now_,” says Loki dramatically, “we go home.”

“Did you just refer to Earth as...” I say turning to him.

“Yeah,” he says as a look of somewhat horrified realization takes over his features. “I think I may have.”

I just chuckle. “Well, you know what they say. Home is where people kneel before you…”

“Not all of them. The only person you go down on your knees for...”

“Pietro, _I swear_...”

“I’m sorry,” he says and he does look genuinely apologetic. Genuinely shocked at what just came out of his mouth. “That was just... involuntary. I think I might have an actual deathwish...”

“Well, that is a brand new and utterly shocking piece of information,” I comment, rolling my eyes. “Could it be possible that you’re fixating on this so much because you’re not getting any...? And how is that even possible. Seriously, what must be wrong with your personality to negate _this_?” I gesture.

“Did you just… objectify me...?” frowns the Sokovian. “_Wow_.”

“Oh, I'm sorry. Do you _not _want to be objectified? Could have fooled me,” I say gesturing at his now slightly ashen clothing that is about as form-fitting as anything I ever wore.

Our expressions remain serious for maybe half a second after that. Probably because we really didn’t think we’d still be alive to laugh. But damn, it feels good. More so knowing that we earned this...

I’m still struggling with laughter much later while helping Loki support Hela’s weight, this battle having left her pretty battered and not exactly up to walking just yet. But she’ll live. We all will. We’ll bear the scars of this battle, but… Personally I’m more than used to that. And given what I’m going home to that couldn’t be less of a problem. Because I _know_ – all he’ll say will be “that’s new” and then he'll be running his fingers over the fresh scar and before long...

“Mal?” says Loki, giving me a sideway look as we hand Hela over to the medics. “What were you thinking about just now…?”

“Home.”

“Thought so,” he says and his smile seems so genuinely happy for me as he puts an arm around my shoulders and kisses the top of my head.

“Don’t. I’m covered in titan ashes,” I say, shuddering a little.

“We all are,” chuckles Hela, sounding a little dazed but… alive. And I can’t help but be happy about that. Because that bloodthirsty monster? She’s my monster. And she’s magnificent and I couldn’t bear to lose her.

“What?” says Loki when I turn to look up at him.

“When we first met… you really didn’t have an endgame in mind, did you?”

“No. No, I did _not_. But as these things go we got a pretty good one.”

I’d answer but that’s when I see blur of blue from the corner of my eye and… “Does anyone have a spare arm?” says Nebula, her voice vaguely annoyed. Which is nothing if not understandable, what with hers ending somewhere halfway through her forearm. Because the impossible to comprehend cosmic singularities she used to snap her father out of existence proceeded to melt the gauntlet and, partially, her arm.

But replacing a no longer functional part was nothing new in her experience and she just took it in her stride. Because she survived worse. And knowing that I simply had no doubt that she’ll be just fine. “You want to delegate that to me or…?” I ask Loki.

“No. I think I want to get on this myself,” he replies.

“Aw…”

“Not like _that_. Oh, shut up, Mal,” he says seeing my grin telling him that I’m pretty sure it’s _exactly _like that. He just rolls his eyes, lets his arm drop from around my shoulders and starts walking towards the last surviving daughter of Thanos.

And since I’m the best henchperson he has I do what I always do. As I'm told.

I _do _shut up. And, because it’s okay to do that now that the fight is over, I find a place to sit and do what I’ve been dying to do for a very long time. I close my eyes and just… rest. Because we all earned the right. The worst was over and now we get to rest. Now we get the rest of our lives to heal our scars and… “Someone has the right idea,” I hear and I don’t even bother to open my eyes.

I just smile, lazily as they settle down beside me, each leaning a head against my shoulder. And they smell like titan ashes too and if I had the power to hold my eyes opened I’d probably see that they look like hell. But they're alive and safe and they make it so much easier to drift off to sleep. Just the closeness of them. These kids that made me so very proud today – and on every day that preceded it as the time stone allowed us to go through the motions of the same conflict time and time again until we got the endgame we wanted.

“You did great today,” I mumble sleepily.

“Which today?” I hear Wanda say, her voice heavy with sleepiness.

“All of them…” I whisper, running my fingers through her hair until the exhaustion takes over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... yeah, I know, I little open-ended... a little "and they lived"... but if it helps it's entirely possible I might be picking it up and adding some further extension on the story at some point...


End file.
